


As the Crow flies

by Snowmane



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowmane/pseuds/Snowmane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small text about the parting of the Warden and Zevran between DA:Origins and Awakening. I mean, the letter is fine, but there must have been more, yes? If not, I know a certain Antivan assassin who's really in trouble...</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the Crow flies

“When will you be back?”  
Her voice was a whisper in the dark, but it did not tremble the slightest. Straight like an arrow in the early morning hours before dawn, aiming right for his heart.  
When he answered his own hushed voice was cracking from all the unspoken apologies:  
“It will take some time, my lovely Grey Warden. It’s not as if Antiva is just around the corner.”  
It was planned to be a joke but he couldn’t muster the strength to be amusing.  
The woman in front of him frowned and bit her lower lip, obviously trying not to speak out aloud the objections she had in mind. The detail of her teeth on her lip caught his attention. He had never learned how to leave someone properly. There was little trust between Crows and his marks might live to see him enter the room, but never to see him leave it. Leaving, he decided, was a horrible thing to do. It made him feel sea-sick before even entering the ship back home.  
“So, when exactly?” Her voice was too bright now; she had never been any good at pretending to be in a positive mood. “You don’t plan to leave me alone with a bunch of human nobles and Grey Wardens who would just _love_ to tell me what to do, are you?” Her humour was faked, but he chuckled a bit nonetheless and slipped his fingers up her neck and rubbed away a few raindrops from her cheeks. Her hair, normally a tangle of black strands, was wet from the rain and stuck to her face and neck. He lifted one hand to comb through it, but stopped half-way. A hopeless case, especially in this weather.  
“It’s a travel of several weeks, even if things go smoothly”, he started instead, imitating her light-hearted tone. This was not a good-bye, no reason to be dramatic. “Then I will have to settle this ugly little problem with the Crows, find you a nice souvenir and sail the whole way back. And to be honest, if this is the Fereldan idea of summer, I have no interest in travelling during its winter.” She opened her mouth to say something and he silenced her with a kiss instead. They stayed like this for a while, holding each other close and kissing raindrops from each others lips. In the books, kisses in the rain always sounded more comfortable. Less cold, for example. And nobody told him they would taste like salt, either.  
“Hmm… cold and wet. Means you’re healthy, yes?” he said when they finally broke apart, his hands still locked behind her head.  
“Only if I were a Marbari, Zev.” She shook off his hands and tried something that might have been a reassuring grin but turned out rather lop-sided. “The ship’s nearly ready. And I should get going as well. The blighted Darkspawn won’t wait for me.” Her voice was soft now but her poise upright and straight as if she could hide the tears away from him with it.  
Seeing his Warden like this made Zevran’s stomach turn, but it was unavoidable. The Crows would start their hunt for him soon and he planned to make the first move this time. The guild masters would answer for what they did and he intended to ruin the day for a long list of people. As for the newly appointed Commander of the Grey in front of him, she was buried knee-deep in this pesky thing called “duty” again. Slaying an arch demon obviously was not enough to get more than a few weeks off.  
“It won’t be long, Lyna. Just do me a favour and don’t do anything stupid while I’m away, yes?” He pulled her close and gave her another kiss. The Wardens answer was a muffled snort. Absently he tucked a few wet strains of hair behind her ears and stopped as he felt the small earring between his fingers. It seemed so long ago when he had given it to her. Its shiny metal reflected the few burning lights of the city behind them and created small amber-coloured spots on her pale skin. He smiled as she pressed her forehead against his sternum. They had come a long way together, the rascally elven girl who forced him into her party of lost causes and the Antivan assassin who failed his mission. The first weeks after the Blight had been like a daze but reality was catching up with them in huge steps. Zevran let out a deep sigh and dropped his hands on her shoulders. Come so far but got so far to go.  
For a few seconds they just stood there, holding each other than they both stepped back, hands still fastened.  
“See you later, Crow.” This time her smile was honest. She let go of his hand and whistled for the giant Marbari who had been waiting a few meters behind them. The loyal dog trotted to her side, giving Zevran a low whimper and a short wag of his stumpy tail as a farewell. Without a sound another shadow emerged from the other side, materializing as a blight wolf behind her, his black fur made shaggy by the rain and his red eyes fixed on the ex-Crow. This was one part he definitely would not miss. Dogs were one thing, but wolves another and blight wolves were his personal nightmare.  
“I’ll be back before you even realize I was gone.” The assassin waved her good-bye, then turned quickly on his heels and marched down the dock. Only when he reached the end of the slippery wooden planks he turned and looked back – just in time to see a small figure with a bow on her back and two shadows at her side vanish between the houses.

The rain stopped and a fresh cold wind started to blow as the ship left Denerim’s harbour in the first light of the day. He stood at the railing, inhaling the clear air and watching as the docks vanished in the morning mist. A slow smile stole itself on his face as he imagined a young elf, once a hunter of the Dalish, walking through the city gates and leaving Denerim without being noticed by the guards just in this moment.


End file.
